


Tarrare (Luna's Scene)

by lazilycoolllama



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abortion?, Anxiety Attacks, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Dysfunctional Relationships, Farm/Ranch, Gore, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, autocannibalism, kind of?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 06:19:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14396106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazilycoolllama/pseuds/lazilycoolllama
Summary: Nomi thinks she has left behind the disease that killed her family.She thinks that the past is behind her.She is wrong.





	Tarrare (Luna's Scene)

**Author's Note:**

> This is from a school project that I immensely enjoyed. I wanted to rewrite one of the scenes because it got seriously censored by school rules, and it got turned into a radio show. So here it is, enjoy!

There was a deep ache in Nomi’s muscles. Her legs burned, her arms were sore, and her back popped in protest as she straightened. Placing her hands at the small of her back, she groaned. _Fuck,_ she felt old. There once was a time when she could work all day in field, but now she could feel the years in her bones.

“Need a break?” Bix asked. The younger boy wiped away a trail of sweat from his forehead, leaving behind a line of dirt. His skin glowed in the sun, exposed from having stripped down to his shorts. A basket of potatoes hung from his back.

Nomi shook her head. The two of them had only been working for a few hours. She wasn’t about to quit now. “Just hand me that flask.”

Bix tossed it over, and she caught it. The water was cold, sliding down her throat and leaving a minty aftertaste. Licking her lips, she could now clearly taste the dust on them. It coated her in a fine layer; sweat leaving little trails down her tanned skin.

“Aw come on, old lady!” Nyma called, a grin in her words. “Keep up!”

Nomi shot a glare over at the other girl who was leaning against her shovel. A cap was pulled low, but Nomi could still see the taunting glint in her eyes. Her tank top hung loosely from her body, but she postured in a way that showed off every curve and angle.

“Get back to work,” Nomi said, refusing to rise to the bait and returning to her own line of potatoes.

Nyma rolled her eyes, “You’re no fun.”

“If I had a nickel,” Nomi muttered. Bix, the only one close enough to hear, stifled a giggle into the back of his hand.

The earth, while hot on the surface, was cool and smooth beneath the layer of crumbling dirt. As Nomi plunged her hands into the ground, she relished the feeling on her callused hands. Picking tuber after tuber, she was reminded of summers of her childhood spent on a farm similar to this. Days spent with her grandparents. Enjoying sour lemonade, mud puddles, and cool evenings chasing fireflies. Happier days.

That was so long ago.

The sun beat down upon her back. It was almost comforting, in an uncomfortable way. As if the sun was a reminder of her existence. She was alive. She breathed, felt, lived. An almost surreal feeling to have when her mind was going numb with monotony and exhaustion.

Nomi enjoyed monotony. Having spent much of her life as a police officer, she was used to 2% excitement 98% boredom. This was better. Elbow deep in dirt and vegetables with sweat sticking her hair to her forehead was better than filing reports at a desk. She enjoyed the rhythm of her own heartbeat and the ache in her arms.

Reminders that she was here and alive.

The sun reached the center of the sky when Nomi accepted Bix’s offer of a break. They collected their baskets, then started back towards the house. Nyma chattered the entire way, not caring that Bix and Nomi remained silent.

The farmhouse was an older place, white paint faded and chipped and a porch wrapping around the whole thing. A few trees were scattered around the yellowing grass. A gravel road stretched out so far that you couldn’t see the end. Rufus – Daveed’s ancient pitbull – lay near the porch stairs. One eye was glossy, and he could barely hear, but he was the most loyal and kind dog Nomi had ever met.

“Need a hand?”

Nomi looked over her shoulder to see Daveed approaching from the chicken coop. A towering man with a mess of curly black hair, the pastor of this backwater town was similar to his old dog. Kind, loyal, and a goddamn miracle all in one. He had taken them in when many would have turned them away. Taken them in and cared for them. A saint, if there ever was one.

“If you would like,” Nomi offered him a basket, which he took. “We’ve got the west half of the fields done.”

“Excellent. I’d like to get it all in by weeks end,” He said. “Then we can focus on other things.”

Bix held the door open for them. Jazz filtered through the house, coming from the kitchen where they were going towards. The smell of fresh bread and fried chicken intertwined with the music. As they entered the kitchen, Nomi felt herself smile.

Keira was cooking, her hair pulled back and up, hips swaying to the music. Sitting at the table were the siblings, Jamie and Maisy. The elder of the two, Jamie, was sitting next to Luna, who was teaching him math. He growled in frustration, but Luna patiently let him figure it out. Maisy was coloring, giving a tree purple spots and a horse green wings. It was one of the homeliest sights Nomi had ever seen.

“Wash your hands, lunch is almost ready,” Keira said.

They deposited the potatoes into the pantry, then filed into the bathroom to wash up. It didn’t get all the dirt and sweat off, but at least they looked slightly more presentable. When Nomi came back out, the siblings were clearing their things off while Keira gathered plates. Luna attempted to stand but stopped when Daveed placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Please, Luna,” He chuckled. “Let us. You should rest.”

“My feet thank you,” Luna sighed, her hands going to her round belly. “Luna Jr. is kicking up a storm today.”

“Can I feel? Can I feel?” Maisy popped up, little blond pigtails swinging.

“After you eat,” Luna said, swooshing her off to do her duties.

Nomi grabbed the plater of freshly sliced bread and jar of jam, placing them on the table while the others gathered the rest of the food. Within minutes they were all sitting around. Nomi was wedged in between Bix and Jamie, Luna across from her. At the head of the table, Daveed extended his hands.

“Let us pray.”

They took each other’s hands, bowing heads. Daveeds deep voice rumbled in the silence as he spoke, “Dear Father in Heaven. We give thanks for this meal and for the company of each other. I ask for a blessing upon Luna and her child, that this next month may be kind. Also, please bless Jamie and Maisy as they continue to learn and grow, bless Nyma, Bix, and Nomi as they work hard in the field, and bless Keira as she continues to keep this household sane. In the name of the son, Jesus Christ, amen.”

Amens echoed around the table before the peace broke as requests for food to be passed around were asked.

Nomi wasn’t a religious person. Never had been. Her grandmother had been Catholic, but – in her own words – if the good Lord had issues with how she lived her life then he needed to re-evaluate his priorities. Nomi remembered being forced to a few sermons when she was a child, but most of her adult life had been spent anywhere but.

It was a little strange to be living in a pastor’s home. There was a cross in almost every room, and the first time Nomi swore Daveed looked like she had just kicked Rufus. A bit of a shift in behavior, and it was odd at times, but Nomi admired Daveed’s dedication to his faith. Especially now.

Nomi wasn’t sure how he still managed to believe in God when the rest of the world was in flames.

“Keira, this tastes amazing,” Daveed complimented.

She beamed from the opposite end of the table. “Thank you. I wasn’t sure how this new recipe would turn out, but I’m glad you like it.”

“More chicken?” Luna asked, holding out her plate.

“Shit, slow down there,” Nyma said as Keira piled a few more pieces on her plate and Luna dug in. “This isn’t a contest.”

“Language,” Daveed warned. Nyma had the decency to look slightly ashamed.

“Hungry?” Keira asked.

Luna nodded, “I’ve just been starving lately. Probably this little kid.”

Looking closer, Nomi realized that Luna was looking thinner. Her cheekbones were sharper, her eyes more sunken, and the bones in her fingers more prominent. Her skin had taken on a sallower hue. Barely noticeable, but it was there.

“Are you feeling alright?” She asked hesitantly.

Luna barely paused to answer, “I’m just hungrier. Nothing to be concerned about. You get weird cravings when you’re pregnant, right?”

Keira shrugged, “Never had kids. Have you, Nomi?”

There was a sharp _snap_ as the chicken bone in Nomi’s hand shattered. They table went quiet. Even Luna stopped to look up at Nomi’s blank face. Every muscle felt taught. Her heart pounded in her ears. Everything seemed so loud.

“N… Nomi?” Bix asked. His voice was quiet, but it was like a gunshot to her. “Are… are you okay?”

“I...” How was she supposed to respond to that? In one swift motion she stood, dropping the bones in her hand, and turned to Keira. “Thank you for the meal. It tasted great.” Then she was walking away, ignoring the stifling silence behind her.

Body on autopilot, she found herself in her bedroom, back against the closed door and lungs in a vise. Tears threatened to spill, but she choked it back. Her vision swam. Everything turned red. The sweat on her body was suddenly blood. There was a gun in her hands, and a man stood before her with a bloody grin.

“Not real, not real, not real, not real,” She muttered to herself.

The man was holding something.

“Not real.”

Tearing, dripping, crunching.

“Not real.”

Heavy, metallic scents wafted over her. Why could she smell the blood? This wasn’t real. No matter how real this gun felt. No matter how loud the chewing was. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real.

“NOT REAL!” She screamed.

The man disappeared, replaced by a lamp. The blood was back to sweat, the scents back to bread and cold breeze blowing through the open window. Her hands shook around nothing. This was real.

Fuck… it had been nearly a year since she’d broken down like that. And over the simple mention of a child.

Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes like thorns. She wouldn’t cry. Not over this. She’d already cried enough. She wasn’t weak. She wasn’t this pathetic.

“Nomi?”

Daveed’s voice came from the opposite side of the door. He sounded so concerned, and Nomi suddenly realized she’d been yelling.

“God fucking damnit,” She muttered, yanking the door open. He stood there, barely fitting the doorframe. “Yes?”

“Are you alright?”

Curse his kind and caring nature.

“I’m fine,” She said, voice catching on the lump in her throat. She coughed, straightening her shoulders and placed her hands behind her back. Old training kicking in when faced with someone she viewed as an authority figure. If you looked cold and uncaring, then everything was alright.

Daveed didn’t look convinced. “If you would like, I am always hear to listen. We all have troubling pasts…”

“I said I’m fine,” She repeated, voice taking on a terse tone.

He seemed to get the hint and held up his hands, backing off, “I understand. Just know we all support you, Nomi.”

“Thank you,” She responded.

She made a move to walk past him, but Daveed stopped her. “Don’t bother going back into the fields. You have done more than enough today. Nyma and Bix can finish up. Please get some rest.”

Nomi almost fought back, but the look in his eyes warned her not to fight him on this one. She went limp, nodding in acknowledgment.

“I’ll be in my office if you need me,” He said. Then he was gone, footsteps shaking the floor with his weight.

She felt tired. Old and tired. Maybe getting some rest wasn’t a bad idea. Closing the door, she went to the adjoined bathroom, started stripping, and turned on the shower. The water on her skin, washing everything away, helped distract her from whatever bullshit her brain was pulling up from the dark corners of her mind.

Her hands were still shaking. They wouldn’t stop. At least her heart had resumed its normal beat. It was that weird space after a panic attack. The few minutes where nothing seemed real, and your brain was still trying to figure out what was normal and what wasn’t.

It had been nearly a year since the last breakdown. Nearly a year since she’d let her guard down. Pressing her fists into the tiles of the shower, she focused on breathing. In for four… hold for seven… out for eight… rise and repeat. Just breathe.

Her fingers were started to wrinkle by the time she left the shower. It was hot, so she just laid on top of her covers, watching the shadows move across the wall. Birds chirped outside. Jamie and Maisy shouted downstairs as they played.

So peaceful, she drifted off without realizing it.

 

~~~…~~~

 

When Nomi woke, the sun was touching the horizon. After a moment of disorientation, her eyes landed upon the clock. Nearly 6:00am. She had slept far to long. Getting to her feet, she stretched and winced. Knots in her muscles protested at the sudden movement.

Nobody would be awake this early. Keira was the early riser, and she wouldn’t be up for another half-hour. Maybe she could make breakfast for them. As a half-assed attempted apology for the breakdown yesterday. She hadn’t cooked in a while. Eggs couldn’t be that hard, right?

Throwing on some clothes, she made her way downstairs. Entering the kitchen, she jumped.

“Shit, Luna,” She clutched at her chest. “You scared me.”

Luna smiled, “Sorry, hon. Just getting a snack.”

Nomi raised an eyebrow. That was a bit of an understatement. Several apple cores and orange peels sat on the counter behind her. Half a loaf of bread was in one hand, a hunk of cheese in the other. It looked like she had just started grabbing food from the pantry.

“A snack, huh?”

She blushed, “I just got carried away, I guess.”

“Want me to cook you something?”

“Yes!” She said eagerly. “That would be wonderful.”

Nomi helped Luna to the dining table before going to the fridge and gathering some eggs and shredded cheese. “What are you doing up so early?”

Luna rubbed her stomach, “Hungry again. Luna Jr. is causing some strange cravings.”

“Hmm,” Nomi said, cracking two eggs into the pan and turning up the heat. Getting a fork, she started to scramble them. Her back was to Luna, but she turned slightly so that she could see her.

Luna was a pale woman. Her blond hair was long and tied back, eyes so blue they were almost translucent, and fragile features. Almost like a porcelain doll. A doll so fragile that a nudge would crack it.

Despite her appearance, Nomi knew her to be resilient. Her husband had disappeared a few months ago. No explanation, no clue to where he had gone. Luna had barely skipped a beat, going about her life and continuing to make sure that her child would have a future.

She was looking weaker though. Her movements slow, and her eyes starting to become bloodshot. Why? She was eating more than enough, and she had to of been getting enough rest. Was it stress? But what would she be stressed about?

“Here,” She served up some cheesy scrambled eggs. Luna nearly inhaled them. Nomi sat across from her, watching her eat.

Luna finished, scrapping off the last bits of egg from the plate. Nomi pushed over a glass of water, which she accepted. The sun started coming in through the window, warming up the spot where Nomi was sitting. Luna fidgeted with her cup, eyes flitting from Nomi to the table.

“Have something to say?” Nomi asked.

Luna winced. “I… I don’t know if I should ask this.”

“Is it about last night?”

Luna nodded, still looking nervous under Nomi’s dry stare. “You reacted to… to being asked about… about…”

“About having a child.” Nomi finished for her. Her hands clenched, the knuckles turning white and her nails digging into her palms. It had been nearly a year. Ten months, almost. Ten months since she had left Reformed New York City. Ten months since she had left behind her job, her life, and her family.

“You don’t have to talk about it. I… I was just concerned…”

“I used to have a son,” She interrupted. “A son, a husband. A family. I lost them.”

Luna stared with wide eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Nomi said. “It’s in the past.”

“But—”

“I _said,”_ Nomi said forcefully, glaring at Luna. “It’s fine.”

Luna gulped.

“I’m getting a head start on fieldwork,” Nomi got to her feet. “Tell Daveed that’s where I am if he asks.”

 

~~~…~~~

 

Bix and Nyma joined her a few hours later. Neither attempted to talk to her; both obviously having been warned by Luna. When noon break came around, Nomi refused to go back with them and instead sat under a tree outside. Sure, she might have been being petty. She just didn’t want to talk about her problems. They were hers, and hers alone.

“We’re going into town,” Bix told her. “Luna is staying behind. Says she doesn’t feel well. Are you going to be okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” She responded shortly.

She continued to work.

It wasn’t until she felt like she couldn’t go on that she stopped. Not until her body ached at every motion. Conceding that she needed to stop, she limped back to the house. The sun was starting to go down, but it was still daylight. Maybe 4 or 5 in the evening. The others wouldn’t be back for a while.

“Luna?” She called when she entered.

No response.

“Probably sleeping,” She told herself. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that food was a necessary part of life.

_Crash!_

Nomi instinctively reached for a gun that wasn’t there. That noise had come from the living room. Nobody else was home except for Luna… right? She walked around the corner, cautiously heading towards the back of the house, when she stepped in something slippery.

“Oh fuck,” Nomi choked, quickly stepping back.

Rufus lay on the floor, guts ripped out. He weakly breathed, but he was on his last gasps. Blood covered everything, soaking the carpet. Nomi covered her mouth. Rufus let out a whimper, before he twitched spastically… and then was still.

Something was in the house. Something that had killed Rufus. It must still be here.

Nomi skirted around the dog, continuing towards the living room. She needed a weapon, but the only gun in the house was locked away in Daveed’s room. She’d have to settle with the bat left in the hallway.

Rounding the corner, she leapt into the living room. She was ready to find a bear, or wolf, or some rapid animal.

It was the smell that hit her first.

Metallic. So heavy that she could almost taste it. There was so much blood. It covered the floor and furniture, spattered onto the walls. Fresh and thick. The only sounds were moans of pain and desperation, coupled with tearing flesh. Bile rose to the back of Nomi’s throat.

Luna stood in the center of the living room. Her skin was yellowed, clothes drenched in blood. She staggered weakly. Barely standing but clawing desperately at her own stomach. Her clothes were in tatters, and hunks of her own flesh hung off her body. She was frantic, shoving pieces of herself into her bloody mouth.

_Crunch._

_Squish._

_Tear._

Then she squealed. Triumphantly, she reached inside herself and pulled. Something red and weakly squirming was pulled from her stomach. It didn’t last long, as Luna latched onto its throat and tore. Moaning with pleasure, she continued to eat.

Nomi doubled over, vomiting.

Luna didn’t even notice as she ate her unborn child.


End file.
